


The Greatest Risk Is Not Taking One

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, blarke, blorke, everything everything - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: Clarke's fingers tapped on the window, fascinated as to how a piece of glass could mean life or death, her eyes in a daze as life sprung in front of her. Watching kids play on the sidewalk in the smaller house across the street, or the elders sitting on front lawns making sure the same kids didn't cause any trouble. Her hands tucked in her jean pockets now, feeling self conscious because anyone who saw her, would see a girl tapping on her window. People already think she's weird, Clarke thinks. They all looked so carefree and obviously don't have SCID.Or, Severe Combined Immunodeficiency (SCID).A disease that won’t even let Clarke leave her own house.—Or Clarke has a disease that won’t let her leave her house and she quickly forms a bond with new neighbor Bellamy Blake because all she wants is to feel something.To feel alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the novel written by Nicola Yoon, called ‘Everything Everything’. I hope you guys enjoy! I’ll be working really hard on this, updating every couple days as well. I love this book so much, and I’m so glad I got the inspiration finally to write a bellarke modern au about Maddy and Olly. All rights belong with the book and original plot ideas.

 

>  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **_It's a hard concept to hold onto--the idea that there was a time before us._ **
> 
> **_A time before time._ **
> 
> **_In the beginning there was nothing._ **

**_And then there was ~~everything.~~_ **

 

9/6/17

_Patient : Clarke Griffin_

_Date : September 6th Twenty Seventeen_

_Caretaker : Dr. Abigail Griffin_

_Breaths Per Minute : 10 (constant all morning)_

_Room Temperature : 70 degrees (also constant)_

_Air Filtration : normal_

 

Clarke shifts in the desk chair, uncomfortable when the plastic covering moves along with her which makes her fully aware of the material sticking to her skin. It was a beautiful day out, the wind seemingly blowing through the trees when the rattle back and forth, along with the sun gleaming against her window, a small amount of things she can't feel. It represents the happiness that Clarke doesn't get to experience often because the want for feeling the warmth against her face, feeling the wind leave her hair in knots, only grows that much stronger when she does look out into the world. It makes her imagination run wild, feeling the fictional characters she reads in books come alive since she really cant talk to anyone besides her nurse Cece and her daughter Raven. But most importantly her mother, the one who takes care of her everyday and has been for the past ten years, wasn't home with her on her eighteenth birthday. 

"You're not even a  _bit_ excited about turning eighteen?" Cece asks, squeezing the blood pressure cuff tightly around Clarke's right arm. 

Clarke shakes her head lightly, honestly feeling no different from the day before when she was only seventeen and a year younger. She was hoping for her vitals to be normal and regular so the morning checkup would go faster, because all Clarke wanted to do was curl up in bed and start thinking about her next school project. Her teacher was an old friend of her mom, and luckily taught history before he retired in the public school system to do Abby a favor and teach her daughter. The idea of keeping herself busy was probably the only thrilling feeling she had. 

"There's nothing to be excited about" Clarke lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in, and slumps in her chair after Cece takes off the cuff and gets up from the stool. Her eyes following Cece as she moves around the room, trying to find the cap to her pen when Clarke speaks up again, "What can a girl like me do in her house on her birthday? Eat cake that  _doesn't even_ taste like cake and play scrabble with my mom" 

Clarke couldn't help but let a smile form on her lips when she sees Cece try to hold in her laugh but gets covered by a frown seconds later, "How do you know what cake actually tastes like?" 

"Google says it tastes really sweet and delicious" Clarke couldn't help but giggle. 

"It doesn't" Cece replied, shaking her head at the younger girl trying to convince her of something she knows isn't true. Clarke knows that the people in her life try to make it seem worth it's disadvantages, and it only makes it that much harder to believe the truth because ironically, sugarcoding things isn't so sweet. But she knows cake has to be sweet, right? its sugar and eggs basically. 

Clarke scoffs at the comment, distracted by her mind churning when Cece walks towards her and caresses the side of her face like a child, and she can't ignore the little tears at her heart when she hears the words she's been dreading to hear the entire conversation about food. 

"I'm sorry that you have to rely on the internet for something you should be enjoying today, but I love you and so does your mom" The reminder making Clarke smile and Cece taps her nose cutely, making it scrunch on instinct. 

"How can I forget?" The smile still bright on Clarke's face, as her nurse leaves the room to leave her alone. 

It was normal, to be by herself. 

It was the sad truth for any person but stung more because all Clarke wanted to do was explore the world that took her liberty away....that made her live in a million dollar bubble of a germ free zone all because, she was sick and quite frankly always will be. It started when she was small, a baby girl with soft blonde hair and those dazzling blue eyes that her father loved. 

One trip to Hawaii changed her life, fits of coughing and flu like symptoms left Abigail and Jake Griffin waiting in an emergency room, for two days, still in shock of the realization of their only daughter being allergic to practically anything the Earth provides. Clarke could still remember the first time her mother ever explained that she would never leave her house again. 

_"Honey, it's too dangerous to be here during construction" her mother cooed in Clarke's ear, bringing her close to her chest. Clarke couldn't sleep at all that night, and it was because of the constant banging and glass slates being installed in every room of the house she would soon call home. She sometimes didn't understand why her parents were doing all of this for her, all she knew is that she was really sick. Abby smiled down at the girl, watching as her tired eyes glanced up with her teddy bear clutched in her left arm and realized how she could keep Clarke safe for the rest of her life._

_"It's so loud mama, I-I can't sleep." Clarke's voice was almost pleading like, her eyes meeting her mother's again and Abby loosens her grip and kneels down to begin talking to her._

_"This will all be over soon baby, I promise...I promise that you'll get to sleep peacefully forever-" Abby places both hands on either side of Clarke's face rubbing her cheeks lightly with the same smile she's been holding, "- like the princess you are"_

_The men working along the side of the house lit the house with white light, using flashlights to light the darkness of the moon and Abby knew it was way past her daughter's bed time. The work was paused, looking in the house to see Abby talking. The poor girl was only 6, and she had no idea of what would be her future. She was tempted to let the workers go home for the night, tired of the cold breeze seeping into her home and the worry only spread. So she didn't, because the quicker the house was done...the worry would vanish for good. And for a long time._

_"Come on, I'll read you another story tonight. What about another chapter of Beauty and The Beast?"  An offer Abby knew wasn't going to get turned down by because the girl sprung up with a bolt of energy._

_Abby laughs slightly, only to look over at the last window being put up in the living room, only to get pulled by the ends of her sleeves by a very excited and giddy little girl to make the way back upstairs to her bedroom. Luckily, her main priority was to get Clarke's room done first because that's where she'd spend most of her time during renovations._

_Clarke was too young to feel any real effects of her disease just yet, because of the constant care of her parents that made sure she never did anything that was harmful to her immune system, either by eating different foods or staying inside for long periods of time._

_Clarke rubbed her nose, feeling a bit stuffy and that's when Abby lets herself get dragged to wherever Clarke was going because she needed to be isolated fast._

Clarke's fingers tapped on the window, fascinated as to how a piece of glass could mean life or death, her eyes in a daze as life sprung in front of her. Watching kids play on the sidewalk in the smaller house across the street, or the elders sitting on front lawns making sure the same kids didn't cause any trouble. Her hands tucked in her jean pockets now, feeling self conscious because anyone who saw her, would see a girl tapping on her window. People already think she's weird, Clarke thinks. They all looked so carefree and obviously don't have SCID. 

Or, Severe Combined Immunodeficiency (SCID). The rare genetic disease that involves defective antibody response due to non-functional hyperactive T-helper cells, also commonly explained as a disease that makes victims extremely vulnerable to infectious diseases because the immune system can't handle such strong sicknesses, even if its considered small to everyone else. 

She can’t even leave her house. 

She used to love telling her stories about being the strongest and most heroic girl in the world to her only friend Raven, who'd almost always sit on the edge of Clarke's bed with wide eyes and a huge grin because she felt lucky to know her, but that died after a while. Raven Reyes was the only person Clarke was allowed to see, since she was Cece's family and the same age. Telling the same stories each time, got boring for both of them because nothing changed. 

Raven still got to leave her house, go to school and talk to other friends and meet new people, and the only stressful thing she's done is get vaccinated in the air lock room everytime she walked in the Griffin house. 

It's Clarke's eighteenth birthday, and all she wanted to do was sit at the edge at her bed listening to Raven speak about which college she wanted to go to, and how she'd almost twisted the arm of a touchy junior at her school, or how her life was actually nice. She'd look up with the same bold and surprised eyes that Raven had all those years ago, because she couldn't possibly be the strongest or most heroic girl in the world. 

It was stupid, and so was the idea of wanting to celebrate her birthday. 

A buzz comes from her desk table, a screen flashing bright when Clarke glanced over at it because it was her cell-phone. 

**Mom**

_**Happy Birthday sweetheart! I love you and i'll make sure to get a new scrabble game to play tonight after dinner xo** _

 

Clarke sighs, not wanting to reply because it's the same text every year so she feels glad knowing her mother knows she read the text. She plops onto her bed, her arms open as she just stares at the ceiling. The white painted stars calmed her down, feeling like she was in space or something. The only reason she got her ceiling painted black and white, was to represent the galaxy. A place that wasn't Earth, and couldn't make her feel horrible about being so different. Clarke reminds herself to call Raven after she finishes school, to hopefully convince her to come over and spend some time with the birthday girl, wanting her eyes to close so that she'd go back to sleep. 

It's all she could do, and Cece joked about the hobby saying it'll stop her from getting any wrinkles when she get's older because it'll match _horribly_  with her light skin and Clarke had to smile at the memory. 

__

"Happy birthday to me" Clarke mumbles before shutting her eyes, wrapping an arm around herself to comfort whatever thoughts she had. 

 

                                                                                   

"You haven't had new neighbors in  _years_ " Raven teases, her voice echoing in Clarke's room when she looks out the huge window. Her legs were sprawled on the bench, with her arms resting behind her head, and Clarke didn't think the other girl was actually comfortable. But, she hadn't moved from the spot so she didn't feel the need to argue. 

"It sounds like you're actually happy Indra and her kid moved away?" Clarke questions, fingers grazing the current page of her novel to look up at her friend. Raven had just returned from school, granting the wish of some company for Clarke which she didn't mind. 

Raven snickered, "I just didn't like Gaia, she was too much of a know-it-all" 

Clarke glared at her with wide eyes, not wanting to hear bashing of a girl who wasn't even there to witness it because it wasn't fair, so Raven just forced a smile on her tough persona and replied, "Indra was nice to me, if that makes you stop looking at me like that."

They both laugh, but it ends when Clarke returns his gaze to the book in her lap, it was one of her mother's books that was stored away in her own bedroom for a reason Clarke didn't understand. It's pages were crinkled, and the book seemed to have this weird odor that she eventually got used to. 

But it was nice. 

They sat in a comfortable silence, Clarke feeling Raven look at her once in a while when she would mumble a few words to herself, wanting to talk about her birthday instead of reading. Raven knew Clarke always felt weird every year, it was obvious with the silence and the sadness sway through her steps. It was her best friends birthday, and she couldn't even buy the girl, flowers or  **real** birthday cake, one that would be silly engravings of how much Clarke meant to her, or the message actually being written with her own messy handwriting .

Clarke loses her focus, right when Achilles was being introduced, because Raven calls for her attention. It was almost like Clarke had been waiting for this information all day, which she tried really hard to convince herself that it wasn't. It wasn’t hard to stare at something that’d been sitting in the driveway next to her own house. 

"Someone just pulled up to the house..." The words seemingly glide off her tongue slowly, waiting for Clarke to join her at the bench near the window to meet her new neighbors from afar. Raven feels the seat dip next to her, a couple seconds later and Clarke was sitting cross legged in a anxious matter. 

 _It's probably a young family with a couple kids,_ Clarke thought to herself. She notices that the car was a solid red color, almost maroon, and she could already spot three heads through the back wind shield. The U-HAUL truck had already been there for about an hour, so she wondered if the car was filled with more personal and intimate items. 

Both girls were tempted to move from their positions, the excitement quickly draining from their bodies but Raven pulls Clarke's arm in her direction when she sees who gets out of the red car first. Clarke would of yelped in surprise or slight pain, but he mouth shut close when she saw, two kids and an older woman. 

They weren't kids, even though the girl looked younger than the guy, so she organized them in her head as being her age, and she couldn't ignore the joy in her heart when she did. She barely sees kids her age in her neighborhood, let alone her existence, so she let the hope seep it's way back into her veins. 

The girl was giddy and smiling when she looked at her new home, matching the same expression at her assumed mother and Clarke smiled when she watched the sprint to open the door and urgency to go inside. The girl had matching feature of her mother, both long haired and joyous with their sharp facial features too.

The mother was held back though, and both Raven and Clarke shrugged when the guy looked towards the ground with his shoulders slumped as he walked towards the entrance to the house. It was beautiful, with a brown brick exterior and complimentary colors of white and grey adorning the shades and window stills. Clarke scrunches her eyebrows, feeling confused as to why the guy was feeling that way. 

Raven was the one to move first, plopping herself on the lazily made bed, like Clarke had done earlier in the day and begins talking. 

 

"The guy is cute" Clarke feels the tip of her ears warm, remembering his features. He had black hair, it was short and curly and framed his face perfectly.  _God,_ she could even see his freckles from her window. The sun gleamed on his already tan skin, and she wouldn't be surprised if he actually had girls lined up for him outside his house once they realize. 

She turns to see Raven just laying there, a smirk hiding under her neutral expression and Clarke nods in agreement, knowing an answer was needed. 

Clarke glances back outside her window, the same sunlight she just described her new neighbor with, was flashing against her and was almost so bright that she had to look away to keep her eyes from watering. She just sat there, her attention never differed away from the empty car filled with stories and people she'll probably never meet or find out how they live their lives. It was so fascinating to even think about, trying to come up with your own land of imagination for people who are actually real, and not fiction. 

The guy ends up returning a couple minutes later, jogging outside of his house to the car door he had come out of, only with a set of keys and small empty cardboard boxes. She wasn’t distracted by the sun on her face anymore. 

Clarke couldn't look away, and she felt so horrible about wanting to invade his privacy. But, as her hand tucked pieces of blonde hair away from her face, debating if this had been a good idea to just keep on staring. 

She went with the most logical decision, and began to stand to walk away to her lounge chair and flip the page in ‘The Illiad’ and forget about the strangers. 

Until, she notices the guy staring at her. His body faced in her direction, with his eyes looking up at her. 

Words get caught in her throat, as she stops herself from stumbling backwards and losing balance. And he couldn’t even hear her because she was two stories high above the ground, with at least 10 feet separating their bodies. She felt conscious of his eyes, his glare wanting to pour into her memory as they just look at eachother for a couple more seconds. 

He waves to her suddenly, a friendly gesture that she was glad to return. His head was tilted to the side, trying to figure the girl out in any way he could. The flop of his curls, falling on his forehead matching his actions. 

A wide grin spread across her face, when she pulls her hand down to her side. A breath finally making its way into her lungs, and she doesn’t realize she’s been holding it in all this time. 

He smiles, white teeth and all and she tries to hide a smirk of her own when he seemingly winks at Clarke. A warmth spreading in her, the stupid smile not leaving her face when she turns back aroun to face Raven who’d witnessed everything. 

Her mouth agapes, “He’s cute, and he’s friendly!”  The dots connected in Raven’s head, what this could mean for the future for her friend. 

Clarke just walked quickly back to her chair, picked up her book and opened it so fast, that she had to check for any paper cuts. 

“I’m sure all boys act like that” Clarke jokes, the reality of her situation coming back to her. 

Raven rests her head on the weight of her hand, and her head shakes back and forth. “Not the boys that go to Ark, they all suck and have no manners” 

“Then, I guess it’s okay that my life sucks” Clarke doesn’t lose the smile on her face. 

“you may be great at this whole being social thing, but you aren’t so good with the real aspect of things” Clarke huffs, shutting the book on her finger holding the page in place, and glances out the window to the empty lawn next to her house. 

Her reality was spending birthdays inside her house, and no communication as long, as those air-right windows allow her to be alive and well. 

She has new neighbors, and as much joy she felt about it. Clarke felt just as crushed because she would never be allowed outside. 

That’s an outright suicide mission waiting to happen. 

But, she still had hope for another interaction with her neighbor, even if all she could do was, wave her hand from side to side like a robot. Damnit, she couldnt stop thinking about him either. It’d only been a couple seconds. 

She had always felt like nothing. 

Maybe, now it was her time to feel like everything had a plan in her life. She’s 18, and from what she’s read in the past, it should be life-changing. 

Every new experience a person has, should be. 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is your daughter home? We were hoping that she would show us around the neighborhood” Bellamy speaks up, standing on his tip toes to try and get a sneak peek inside the door. Abby swiftly turns to him, fragile eyes glancing to the cake in Octavia’s hands and the hopeful stare from Bellamy. 
> 
> She tries to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to start something she knows she can’t win. 
> 
> “No” Abby starts to say, her mouth unintentionally turning into a clenched grin. 
> 
> “No she isn’t” She finishes, finally closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s literally been forever since I’ve updated this, and I finally got the inspiration that reminded me how much I love the storyline for ‘Everything, Everything’ , so thank you everyone for reading so far! I hope you enjoy.

_**You can't predict the future. It turns out that you can't predict the past either.** _

_**Time moves in both directions-** _

_**forward and backward** _

_**And what happens here and now changes them both.**  _

 

Clarke's spoon scraped the bowl of her French  _stew_ , her mother spoke her name with a daunting look in her light eyes and sparked her daughter's attention. The stew wasn't even that good because it didn't taste like anything, even with it's boiled chicken, sausage, duck and white beans as ingredients. 

"Don't you have that space model to turn in to Marcus, Clarke?" Abby asks, picking up her napkin to wipe her mouth. 

Clarke nods her head, letting her spoon rest in the bowl. She had an assignment due the next day because Mr.Kane would be doing his annual monthly classwork check on his only student. It was all such a hassle really, he would get the typical notice about staying away from populated areas the week before, then a doctors visit that assured her mother of his health status. It was a routine that he had to follow every month. it only made Clarke wonder if she was worth all the time and money, she was sure that Marcus had better things to do with his time other than, teaching a sick girl what he spent years doing that'd probably die at the age of 20. 

A slim but very real narrative on life. 

"It's done, I finished it yesterday since I only had to cut out some more astronauts and planets-" Clarke pauses and switches her gaze to her quiet nurse and continues, "- thank you again for those cardboard pieces, it helped alot" The smile returning to her face, as she feels appreciative. The cardboard helped her build a spaceship as the main focus in her presentation, and hopefully will distract her eyes from the overuse of white of the rest of her scenery. 

Abby nods, content with the ambitious attitude being shown. It was always important for her, that Clarke being her fullest creative potential since she can't show off her academic skills. She always knew Clarke was smart, but the world decided to show it in a way that not many people witness so it's that special to preserve. 

Typical friday nights in the Griffin house, usually involved board games and movie binges that would last hours usually ending in the early morning of the next day. It was the only day, Abby Griffin had a break from her high pressured job as a surgeon. She wouldn't trade it for the world because it was one of the main reasons why she had the money to pay for the renovations of the house, and that meant everything as a mother. 

Plus, it was still Clarke's birthday and the three of them didn't mind watching re-runs of old tv shows, or playing scrabble till one person flips the board game on the floor because it's that rigorous to win. 

It goes silent for a few seconds, Clarke fights the urge to pick up her spoon and start eating again, to create any sort of sound for her ears to fill but she doesn't. 

"Raven's sorry about not being able to come" Cece abruptly says, throwing both women off guard as well. 

A frown forms on Clarke's face, but she loses it just as fast because she understood. She understood that Raven was at school, attending a engineering class because its her passion in life, and convinced it was her life calling. Also, it was the only time she was offered so choose to take it on Friday's. 

"She's been doing this for a couple months now, it's not her fault that it fell on my birthday this time" Clarke reassures, ignoring the slight pain of fully accepting the truth in her mind. 

Cece just smiles up at her, knowing she’s gonna be okay. 

“Are you gonna finish your food?” Abby asks, her own frown was growing as her daughter wouldn’t take a full bite of her stew. 

Clarke caresses a piece of her blonde hair from behind her ear, “I’m not super hungry”. 

It was true, she’s always had a minimal appetite because she can’t eat much anyways. It sucks, but she’s used to it. 

Abby just confirms with a nod, glancing at Cece like she would know something she wouldn’t. Always on edge with her daughter’s sickness, and things everything goes wrong in a matter of seconds. 

That’s how fast things could change. 

It goes silent for a few moments as if trying to make this all seem normal, then the doorbell rings. 

The Griffin household hasn’t had any company for years, let alone coming as a surprise. The three women don’t move, trying to pretend they don’t exist and hope that whoever at the door would leave. But they don't, and Clarke could feel her hands itch to find out who it was. It rings again, the chimes echo through the big house like a grand entrance. At least, that’s what it felt like in Clarke’s ears, excitement silently brewing in her body. 

“Make sure she stays away from the door, I expect you-“ Abby warns, her finger pointed in Cece’ s direction, “-I expect you to keep her in this room” 

Cece straightens her white nurse outfit, like she had done something wrong already. Worry was all that consumed her face, because that’s how she felt. 

This has never happened. 

She nods, brown eyes not leaving the younger girl as her mother leaves the room. 

Clarke hears the air shaft slide open and close, the sounds of mumbled voices was all she could understand. 

                  ______________

Abby could feel her hands shake slightly, the wedding ring on her finger seemed too bright to look at, as she glanced down. She presses down on the word pad, typing in the password to open the air shaft. 

She breathes in the air that taunts her own daughter everyday, knowing she’ll have to give herself a extra medical check when she returns, because she’s paid so much to keep her family safe. 

The first thing she sees, is two teenagers at her doorstep. They were in absolute awe of the craftsmenship of the expensive house, tempting to drop the silver pan in the boy’s hands. 

Abby opens the actual front door with a cautious smile, becoming aware of everything. 

“Hello. How may I help you?” Abby says, a smile bright on her face. 

The older boy shifts on the balls of his feet, a attractive young man but visibly nervous to meet her, to meet someone new. 

“We’re the new neighbors next door, and our mom makes us bring a bundt cake to the house next to us” He answers with a small smile playing at the ends of his lips, glancing at the girl beside him because she was the one holding the supposed bundt cake. 

“A friendly gesture if you will, the Blake’s could be a wild Family sometimes” The girl had long black hair, it was swaying against her back as the wind flew by. She laughs too, breaking the tension that’s growing because the conversation is one-sided. 

“That’s so nice of your mother, please tell her I said thank you for her hospitality” Abby finally answers, picking up on Clarke’s habits as she strokes a piece of hair from her face.

“I’m Bellamy Blake, this is my younger sister Octavia. We’ll be sure to thank her when we return home” Bellamy keeps his smile, gesturing for Octavia to hand over the cake. 

Abby sighs. “I’m so sorry Bellamy and Octavia, but I can’t take that” Their names rolled off her tongue with as much sincerity as she can. 

Bellamy tilts his head, not wanting to be rude but a scoff escapes his chapped lips because it was cold that night. He never would disrespect an older person, exposing how he truly wanted to say, not knowing if he was growing to be angry or disappointed. Probably both because of his easy temper sometimes, his mother loved to remind him of that. 

“You can’t take it?” Octavia speaks for her brother, having the same expression on her face. 

The older woman sadly nods, feeling bad for turning them away.  _But_ Clarke, that was her main focus. Sugar wasn’t good for her own body, nor being a distraction to someone who could actually die if she consumed it.  

“I’m so sorry” Abby repeats, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her small frame. 

She was inches away from closing the door, shutting herself away from the world. 

Until, the similar voice perks her ears. 

“Is your daughter home? We were hoping that she would show us around the neighborhood” Bellamy speaks up, standing on his tip toes to try and get a sneak peek inside the door. Abby swiftly turns to him, fragile eyes glancing to the cake in Octavia’s hands and the hopeful stare from Bellamy. 

She tries to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to start something she knows she can’t win. 

“No” Abby starts to say, her mouth unintentionally turning into a clenched grin. 

“No she isn’t” She finishes, finally closing the door. 

Her delicate hands wouldn’t stop shaking after that, maybe it was better to blind herself with the shininess of her beloved ring, it’ll distract the mother from the shine in his eyes as he mentioned the existence of Clarke. 

                    ____________ 

 "Clarke, I can't lie and say that I didn't miss having that horrible stew that your mom makes every year for you" Raven snickers, instead it sounds like static because she's talking through a phone. It only makes Clarke laugh because her best friend did have a valid point, making the  _not hungry_ card so easy to play. 

"I missed sliding the food into a napkin with you, Reyes. It's much harder to do that when you don't have a wing-woman to do it with" Clarke jokes, sliding her fluffy slippers off her pale feet. 

"So-" Raven begins to say, the vowel sliding off her tongue for longer that needed. "So, My mom said that something interesting happened during dinner" 

The air seems to thicken, the memory making a sudden pop in her mind because Clarke had no idea who it was. However, she crosses her legs on the bed letting her eyes roam around her room, "Nothing happened, I don't even know _what_ happened" 

"My bet is the cute guy next door, wanting to save the damsel in distress" Raven fantasizes as her hair whips around in it's ponytail, the tap against Clarke's speaker was enough to prove her assumptions. 

Clarke just sighs, feeling Raven was thinking too many ideas at once. "I've only known he's existed for eight hours.....you're so dramatic" Both girls just happen to smile, loving the friendship they had. 

"I can't help but feel excited for you, he winked at you for  _God's sake_!" Raven exclaims, frowning when Clarke doesn't say anything back. 

"It's a wink! That doesn't mean anything" She finally replies, wanting her next words to shut the older girl up and drop the subject. "Raven, I can't go outside. I wouldn't even have a chance to talk to him, ever" Clarke utters softly, trying to remember how his dark freckles matched so perfectly with his tanned skin, luminous of everything he had to offer. It's silent, like the realization of her illness again, and she says goodbye to Raven and hangs up the phone. 

That was the only thing ringing in her mind as Clarke throws her phone next to her, wishing she could be outside. You'd be surprised how much it hurt her adventurous heart to be trapped inside, literally feeling trapped in something that's supposed to keep you safe. 

She breathes out a shaky sigh, not letting her reality consume her just yet, running her fingers along the soft cotton sheets she had covering her mattress. Sometimes, she doesn't think she deserves all of this. The nice cotton, the air tight walls, the false world she's forced to liv- 

" _HEY!"_

Clarke's head whips to the left, towards the direction of the mysterious voice because now her thoughts are interrupted. She knows that she just admitted to herself that everything is practically horrible in her eighteen year span of living, but she didn't think she'd be hearing voices either, wanting to punish her. 

" _OVER HERE!"_ The voice was deep, and it was coming from her window.  _Weird._

Well, the window opposite her big one. Her blue crystal eyes tried to adjust in the darkness of the night, her heartbeat was at a suspenseful increase like she was the main star in a horror movie or something. Which was cool, but definitely not in real life. 

A shadow _moves_ in the darkness as Clarke watches it's every move, watching as the trees shook with the wind. It was a sudden bright light,  _a stupid lamp,_ it had a copper color making it look rustic and quite frankly, ancient. The light bulb was dangling off of it's place holder, and it almost wants to make Clarke smile because she has no idea how it's physically staying together. It was small, probably for a desk, but Clarke finally got a good look at whoever was trying to catch her attention. They locked eyes, her blue ones meeting the brown eyes that seemed so warm and inviting. Like a ocean colliding with a landslide, abrupt and confusing. 

She inches herself closer to the window, wanting to hear his voice. 

" _It's rude to lie, you know?_ "

Her neighbor replies, a playful look on his cute face with his voice loud.  His right hand had a silver ring on his pinky finger, it was evident as both hands gripped tightly onto the window sill. 

Was he angry with her? What did she even do? Nerves crawled it's way up her arms, remembering when she caught his gaze earlier in the afternoon. Was it wrong to do so? Was it illegal to look at someone who looks that nice? 

Clarke shrugged her shoulders, honestly not knowing what he was talking about. She was hoping he would leave her alone, wanting to rid herself of the awkwardness that evolved just from a couple words. Can't he notice that she can't open her window? At all. 

Yet, she watches as Bellamy's roam around the surrounding space in Clarke's room and that's when she grows shy because he was silently judging her with that gleam in his eyes, one she wanted to stray away from. 

He gets it, he understands. 

Bellamy closes his window shortly after, and Clarke could finally breath again. Her eyes close in contentment, left hand grazing the white curtains of her room but she hears multiple loud taps.  _Oh great, now he won't leave me alone._

She opens her eyes, biting her lip scared to find out what was waiting for her, but nothing comes back to bite her.

However, all she's seeing is a notepad and a black Sharpie marker with her nosy neighbor biting on the cap. 

**_Lying doesn't make a person attractive, you know._ **

Clarke laughs, making him genuinely smile, teeth and all because he could see her try to avoid him because of the eye creases that appear because it was sudden to do so - it was adorable. Attractive? Oh, that's already enough to make her blush. 

He flips the notepad back to face him to write on another page, taking note of Clarke tugging on the loose strands of her robe only because she wouldn't budge in her frazzled stance, like nobody has ever done this to make friends.  _No one has, at least for her._  

_**Come on, I deserve to know why you won't show me and my sister around town.**_

The ends of his sentence curl upwards into any empty space because his handwriting is that sloppy. As he turns the page around so she could read it, Bellamy looks down and taps his marker against the bottom edge, anxious for her reaction because she was the one who denied her time for Octavia and himself. But, he doesn't get a direct response. 

 

**_It was you at the door?_**

Clarke writes, in big handwriting to make sure the guy could read it.

__

Bellamy seems to have a sixth sense, glancing across his window into her's, only to see the girl copy his tactics. It made him smile, feeling the need to lick his lips as she just stares at everything  _he was._ She sat cross legged on a soft cushion, as she was sitting down as close to the window as possible because now she had a similar notepad (that she hadn't drew or scribbled in for once) and a purple marker. 

 

**Were you expecting someone else?**

Bellamy writes quickly, curiously. He leans back in his office style chair, which was clean and new because he would never turn down a graduation present, especially one this comfortable. 

 

 

**I don't get visitors. I'm sick**

Clarke fights the urge to rip the page out, but she doesn't stop herself from turning the page around.

 

**Understandable.**

Bellamy's eyes couldn't look away when he sees her frown, purposely not meeting his comforting gaze. 

 

 

 

_**Sorry, I can't show you around town.** _

Clarke knows it was something he wouldn't dare to try to understand the context of her words. Of her sadness.

 

 

 

**_Is that why you didn't accept my mom's cake earlier?_ **

Bellamy makes sure that her light eyes follow the words he wrote, before turning over to a fresh page because he wasn't done. 

_**Because you're sick?** _

 

 

 

  ** _Yes._**

Clarke writes, almost dropping her marker on the floor. Funny.

 

_**Must be a terrible flu. Feel better soon :)** _

A slow nod with flat lips, showing his condolences by adding a sloppy smiley face at the end of his note. 

He wanted to laugh with her  _almost_ slip up, but he doesn't let himself. 

 

 

 

**_Something like that. Thanks though_ **

Clarke bites the insides of her cheek, afraid that she's putting out too many hints for something

she won't never admit to anyone else other than Raven.

 

 

Bellamy pauses, his fingers twirling the marker in his hands as he thinks of what to say next, realizing it still wasn't done. 

_**I'm Bellamy Blake, most people call me Bellamy.** _

 

 

 

**_Well Bellamy Blake, I'm Clarke._ **

She teases, because she forgot to add her last name as well.

 

__

_**Well Clarke, I guess i'm dramatic then.** _

Bellamy teases back, letting the marker draw out her name slowly, her name was beautiful written out. 

 

 

 

_**I guess so.** _

Clarke writes those few words, turning the notepad around with the purple handwriting as she sees Bellamy abandon his own notepad.

 

The feeling of a smile dies on her lips, realizing that Bellamy had gotten up and left her looking like an idiot with a notepad and sharpie sitting on her bench, beside her huge window. Clarke argues against herself, wanting to close her curtains incase he had really left her hanging, but she can't help but feel intrigued on where he went or what he was doing. 

Her heart skips a beat, the feeling of excitement returning when she sees his curls coming back into view, back into her focus. 

Clarke had both hands gripped on the folded pieces of paper of her notepad, as Bellamy returned to his original position in the chair. Of course he wouldn't leave her hanging like that, but they both agreed on him being dramatic already. 

 

What's the fun in not proving it to your newneighbor? 

 

He sets the silver pan on his lap, as his arms lean against his bed so he could write yet again. The cap of the marker pops when he opens it, and he writes as quickly as he could before he loses her attention. But, little did he know, that Clarke never got enough attention and was loving every second of this weird set-up of a conversation. 

Bellamy turns the pad around to face her, which makes her laugh; yet again with him, trying to balance the now open silver pan in his right hand and the notepad in her direction. Right then, he decides that he really likes Clarke's smile because it makes him feel warm inside.

However, his heart pains when the marker in her hand stops writing and he tries his best to watch as Clarke's head turns to face her bedroom door. He knows their conversation was cut short when Clarke looks awkwardly at him, a tilted smile for something they both enjoyed. She's saying goodbye, when Bellamy would rather talk and get to know this girl that was so interesting and fun to be around. 

Bellamy gives a small wave, just lingering a bit longer than needed at her now closed white curtains because _how the hell_ could someone be so easy to talk to, especially when he didn't even know a girl named Clarke even existed till this afternoon. But, he flips the now filled cheap notepad to the first page, setting it aside with his marker because that night happened to be a warm welcome to the neighborhood. 

 

Clarke recognizes the voice calling for her from downstairs as her mom, realizing she had just hung up with an important client at the hospital since today was her day off. She did it every year, on the same day, because of Clarke's birthday. Abby had clients that freaked when her presence was absent, so she consoles them when needed. Sort of like a personal obligation. 

"Honey! Let's watch the movie now!" The enthusiasm was enough to make Clarke set her marker down and say goodbye to Bellamy. 

He watched as she closed her curtains, and the stupid grin wouldn’t leave her face because of it.

Bellamy was so new to her, and it surprised her with how much they’d actually talked.

She doesn’t wait for her mom to call her name again, feeling too giddy to upset anyone. Clarke just kept replaying the way his lips curved into the perfect smile, the way his hair curled on his forehead because there’s nothing you could possibly do to tame it. 

She slips on her fluffy slippers from earlier, as she remembers what Bellamy had wrote down for her. 

**_How long until chocolate cake gets hung upside down and drained for it's blood?_ **

Clarke glances back at her window, somewhat happy that he couldn't see what he had replied with, because it definitely would of made him laugh. Luckily, she's already half way down the staircase to the living room to end her birthday with what felt right. 

Too bad, Clarke couldn't tell Bellamy it was a bundt cake. 

Too bad for her, Bellamy knew. 

 

 

****

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER : beauty has consequences, just ask infamous Helen. 
> 
> She started a whole war because she was kidnapped and she liked it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Bellamy Blake was beautiful, in every destructive and loyal sense of the word. She's only surprised that he wants her to have his number, because destruction is caused by consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a huge thank you to everyone who’s left comments or gave me your time to read this. You guys really have given me inspiration to continue this book and I hope you all enjoy the third chapter!!! It was fun, like always! Xox

_**I was happy before I met him. But I’m alive now, and those are not the same thing.  
** _

 

Clarke doesn't know what it's like to be surprised, so she wonders about the mighty Odysseus and how he ended the Trojan war with a big unstable wooden horse that was supposed to be a peace offering. Instead, it was filled with Greek soldiers who's only objective was to kill. She wonders how the city of Troy reacted. She re-reads all kinds of books, since that's all she can do at this point. All Clarke does is wonder about the possibilities of being so shaken up, that a body is frozen in place, feet unbearable to move because it could get you killed, but you do it anyway because there's a slim chance you'll survive all that terror. 

Not that,  Clarke wishes she would be stuck in a world that pushes her to live every possible second because she doesn't expect her last to come so soon, but the thrill that it would give her trapped world is too exciting not to stay up wondering all night. It comes often. 

She thinks about Bellamy every morning she wakes up, and it's only been a week since he made an abrupt entrance into her life, into _her_ neighborhood. Even though, she would usually return the small smile he could pass onto her everyday since the note passing first began, he wasn't there Monday morning. 

His window was usually always open much to his own complaint, because it gets too hot at night for him to get comfortable. Clarke expects to be met with the same curly mess and eyes that visibly made her teeth show just a bit more everytime they would lock with hers, and that's what she wants.

Her fingers comb through the loose strands of her blonde hair that was supposed to be held back in a high bun, but she doesn't have the urge to fix it just yet, it calms the sudden sadness that creeps up. Clarke walks to her window to try and get a closer view, just to see if Bellamy was hiding in the shadows not wanting to show himself to her because she would of liked that possibility more. 

The sun wants to blind her pretty eyes, but Clarke hears his voice too loud just before she turns away with a bad start to her day.  

"You think coming back-" Bellamy pushes an older man a bit forcefully "-Is going to fix everything?" 

_Her body is stuck, she wants to turn back and disengage herself. But she can't move._

The orange of the sun seemingly shined on the whole situation, acting like a spotlight that actually looked like something Clarke would read, but hated to see with her own two eyes, especially with Bellamy in the center of it. The older man stumbles backwards, turning so that Clarke would see the ugly snarl on his face. 

"I wanna make things right Bellamy, you're my _son_ and I've always wanted to be apart of your life" She almost got hung up with how much it hurt the man to say her friend's name without clenching his fists, but the pronoun stuck out too much. 

Bellamy just pushed his father. 

Clarke's palm rests on the glass, wishing she could help Bellamy fight his emotions but of course she can't do anything, but the cool touch assures her that he'll be okay. It brings her into reality, of his reality. 

"You left me. You left mom, and Octavia. If you wanted to be in my life, you shouldn't have left us." Bellamy spits out, anger was the only thing fueling his drive to step away from the guy before he did something stupid. All he wanted to do was go to school and avoid his father that visited in the middle of the night, after years of avoiding his existence and the lame excuses for not paying child support. 

His dad huffs out a long breath, his fists now clenching hard as he looked at his son who felt the exact same. It all was so surreal, because now Bellamy's mom and younger sister Octavia came running out. They don't wanna start a scene since they live somewhere so new, and could get judged so easily. 

However, Clarke would't judge them. Most certainly when Bellamy is there, fighting with someone who was supposed to mean so much in his life was getting pushed around like someone who wasn't worth the attention. 

"That doesn't give you an excuse to push your father around and tell him when it's a good time to come back home" Bellamy looks around in shock, trying to figure out if this was all a horrible dream. He was never a home for his father, and he's learned to accept that he never will be. 

Bellamy raises his voice which makes Clarke flinch a little but hurt alot more.

"Home? Mom and I never needed you to get this house, and we never will because we're finally happy here! A feeling you  _never_ gave us so i'll make you listen this time" 

He ignores his mother's pleads to stop and come inside, but he doesn't stop from grabbing his dad's collar and looking him dead in the face. The same face that would brighten when he pictures his neighbor Clarke, when he sees Octavia run into the house with a smile after school because she's made friends so soon, when he kisses his mom on the cheek every night before bed because she's painting again. 

His father brought out the face to match his emotions right there, anger, and sadness. His brown eyes were bold when they tried to match the intense stare from the guy who's been gone way too much. 

"You may be my father, but I will not consider you my family" Bellamy says with gritted teeth, his rough hands wouldn't let go until Octavia came running down the stairs to pull her brother away, so he doesn't do anything stupid. 

Clarke feels the familiar tinge in her stomach as she watched the younger girl's hair sway in the wind as she runs to Bellamy and all his focus was switched to holding Octavia close to him. His eyes followed the slumped shoulders of his defeated father, shamelessly loving the pride that coarsed in his veins watching him walk away from his house.

A slow forming smile starts on Clarke's face, wanting Bellamy to somehow feel her own pride for him. Everything seemed so quiet without the yelling, and she feels at ease knowing nobody else heard it. She would hate knowing that other people would cause trouble from the known drama, because she won't be able to defend the siblings. 

Suddenly, she sees his mother walk back in the house wanting her kids to follow and Clarke runs all the scenarios in her confused mind. Would she scowl Bellamy for hurting his dad? Would she praise him? 

Bellamy didn't know he was smiling until he found the need to look up in the direction of Clarke's bedroom. His face looses the tension that came with the proud smile, now replaced with a blank expression. 

She saw everything, and he hoped it wasn't true. 

Clarke's hand freezes on the glass, it hadn't moved the entire conversation she witnessed. It reminded the both of them of how similar it was when they first met, when curiosity got the best of him. How she waved down at him, not wanting to be so obvious that she was so sick she couldn't run down the stairs to greet him and his family. 

Her breath is hitched in her throat, not knowing what to do because neither of them have the strength right now to move or start talking. Bellamy lets his eyes wander to her grey sweatpants hugging her hips barely, and the white t-shirt that was at least two sizes bigger than her small frame. She just woke up, he realizes and he feels bad that Clarke had to witness something so aggressive. 

She had watched him so closely that Bellamy's hands came to cover his eyes so that he could now see what she does. 

Clarke shakes her head immediately, wanting him to know that he shouldn't apologize. 

_Don't be sorry._

Bellamy lets out a shaky breath, feeling himself breathe out the anxiety that came along with Clarke seeing him so angry because it puts a unsettle into the pit of his stomach. In a short period of time, the need to protect the girl was growing. From what? The most honest answer he would always think of is protecting her and everyone in his small neighborhood from his crazy life. Bellamy could only imagine what she thought of him now, because he was so close to punching his own dad square in the face. 

How's that for a good impression? 

Not a very good one, Bellamy thinks because now he's stuck in place staring into her blue eyes. As the days passed from the first night they'd talked, Clarke was still sick and wouldn't come outside. He forced himself not to think that it was because he wasn't good enough to be friends with someone who had lived here all their life, but it was harder because she looked healthy. 

Bellamy shifts his feet because the sun's warmth was hot under his shoe soles, and his heart skips a beat when she stumbles forward like she thinks he would leave. He wouldn't leave, and Clarke feels stupid because she did it unintentionally and her cheeks feel just as hot as the sun on his skin. 

She sees him smile for the first time for that morning, and it makes her toes curl against her carpet like a schoolgirl crushing on someone that's way out of her league, but it makes her happy. 

Bellamy shrugs because there's not much to say when she's up there, and he's down on the ground. 

_I'm not sorry about him._

Clarke gets it, because he's feeling guilty about her seeing all of it. Bellamy holds his hand out, telling her to wait where she was standing because he starts to run into his house. 

He's going upstairs to see her. 

She doesn't know why, but she pulls the hair tie from her hair and lets her waves fall onto her shoulders because she thinks its cute. This was normal, greeting eachother everyday in their windows like nice strangers. However, strangers don't feel the excitement build rapidly in their chests when the do say hello and goodbye. 

It happens so fast, Bellamy rushes to get his notepad placed on his nightstand and any marker that was closest to his reach and starts writing. Clarke does the same, prepared for anything he has to say to her. 

 

 

**I'm sorry you had to see that.**

Bellamy writes truthfully, as Clarke's face shrinks. 

 

**I wish I was there supporting you.**

Clarke writes shyly as her fingers tap on the edges to distract herself from his reading eyes.

 

 

**Still don't feel any better?**

He's the one with the frown adorning his lips, cause she looks healthy enough. 

 

 

 

**Don’t you have school?**

Clarke obviously ignores his question, wanting him to go along with her words like the first time he talked about it.

 

Unfortunately, Octavia calls for him so that they could get to school on time, even though he's dying to know why she avoided his question so much. He wants to tell her to go to the doctor, because a sickness for that long could be serious and he doesn't want her to be in pain. 

Clarke doesn't want him to know that the true pain came with waking up everyday and not being able to go outside, the ache in her bones when she sees Raven run into her house because her day was exciting even with her  _boring_ social life and the horrible guys she claims to hate so much. She sets her notepad aside carefully, hating the pity gaze that Bellamy was trying to give her. She can't look at him, not after all of the drama that happened in such little time, and not after feeling so terrible about lack of honesty with their budding friendship. 

Even with the trees swaying with the occasional breeze, it was still a good distraction from the boy. Something she needed and wanted in that moment because she wants him to go and leave. For once, she's glad she was met with the empty room and empty words. 

Clarke turns fully around to go close her curtains, wanting to shut her mind off with sleep even though she had enough sleep to last till the weekend. All she had was Bellamy's face in her mind, as she drifted off. 

She almost stumbles on her feet again, this time Bellamy wasn't there to even think about wanting to catch her, but something caught her eye and she's actually surprised for the first time in her life. 

**Talk later :) 727-6302 - Bellamy**

 

_Don't read this if you've never read the Illiad._

_SPOILER : beauty has consequences, just ask infamous Helen._

_She started a whole war because she was kidnapped and she liked it._

 

Bellamy Blake was beautiful, in every destructive and loyal sense of the word. She's only surprised that he wants her to have his number, because destruction is caused by consequences. He should know that. 

Clarke is screwed, she can't stop her biting lips or her face hurting because she doesn't want to smile so intense when she re-reads his rushed and sloppy handwriting because the sun hits his writing so nice. It's all she can see. 

She contradicts herself again, knowing Helen was just as beautiful but she’s dead and fictional. But, Clarke Griffin is still breathing her filtered oxygen, proving she’s alive,  and she feels it because of him, her next door neighbor. That’s why she dives for her phone on the bed, and she saves his contact just as fast. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
